ONE MORE TIME!
Star Traks is owned by Alan Decker (It's the last one, so
I'm going first!)
Paramount owns Star Trek, but this isn't their last one. Trek
keeps going and going and...
Star Traks: The Lost Years #20
Aftermath
by
Alan Decker
"Where to begin... The events following Captain Alexander
Rydell's decision to retire didn't just happen one after the other in
a nice story, you know. Life doesn't usually work that way, I've
noticed. Actually, I guess some of it did happen the very next day.
Let's start with the letter..."
**********************************
FROM THE COMMAND CHAIR OF CAPTAIN ALEXANDER B. RYDELL
USS SECONDPRIZE NCC-19296
TO: STARFLEET COMMAND
FROM: CAPTAIN ALEXANDER RYDELL
STARDATE: 54996.4
RE: CAREER CHANGE
I know you folks at Command are busy, so I'll keep this short and
sweet. I'm outta here.
Okay. Maybe not quite that short, but the message remains the
same. I, Alexander Rydell, being of sound mind and body despite
several attempts against it, have decided that the time has come to
move on to the next phase of my life. I will be redirecting the
Secondprize to my new resort, The Suburb, and as soon as we
arrive there, you can consider me retired.
Mention that you're with Starfleet Command, and you'll receive
10% percent off a dinner at our soon-to-be-galacticly-famous
Stone Boat Cafe'.
Thanks for the memories,
Captain Alexander Rydell
USS Secondprize
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
As soon as she stepped into Seven Backward, Lieutenant
Andrea Carr had an overwhelming urge to track down the
source of the horrible racket that suddenly assaulted her ears and
destroy it. Her eyes searched around until they locked onto
Commander Travis Dillon, who was seated on a bar stool over in
the corner singing morosely into a microphone.
One dream in my heart
One love to be living for
One dream to be living for
This nearly was mine
One girl for my dreams
One partner in paradise
This promise of paradise
This nearly was mine
Dillon had a hollow look in his eyes, which stared outward
but focused on nothing. Deciding to let him continue in his misery,
Carr headed over toward the viewports where Commander
Scott Baird and his wife, Lieutenant Commander Emily Sullivan,
sat attempting to eat their breakfast despite Dillon's caterwauling.
"He's taking this pretty hard," Sullivan said as Carr
sat down. "Patricia didn't tell him she was leaving the ship."
Close to my heart she came
Only to fly away
Only to fly as day
Flies from moonlight
"Evidently Jaroch isn't taking it very well either," Carr
said. "He showed up at Counselor Webber's office just as I was
leaving."
"You and Webber are speaking to each other?" Baird asked
surprised. The last time they'd really been in the same room
together, they'd nearly beaten each other to bloody pulps for
control of the Secondprize.
"She invited me to come by. We hugged. We laughed.
We're fine."
"But Jaroch's not, huh?" Sullivan said.
"I guess not. I didn't realize he had any feelings for
Lieutenant Commander Hawkins."
"Where the hell have you been?" Baird said.
Now, now I'm alone
Still dreaming of paradise
Still saying that paradise
Once nearly was mine
"I know Dillon's had the rug pulled out from under him,
but if he doesn't stop, I'm going to kill him," Baird grumbled.
"Maybe the next song will be better," Carr offered
helpfully.
"The next one will be this one. He's been singing it over
and over and..."
The comm system suddenly crackled to life, cutting Baird
off. Even Dillon stopped his wailing to listen. "Attention, ladies
and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking," Rydell's voice
announced. "I hate to just drop this on you all like this, but I'm
retiring. As we speak, the Secondprize is headed toward The
Suburb, at which point the lovely Miss Karina Durham and I will be
disembarking. There'll be time for the individual goodbyes later,
but, for now, let me say thank you and that you've been a
wonderful audience. Rydell out."
Carr, Sullivan, and Baird stared at each other in
stunned silence. "I don't f***ing believe this," Baird muttered
finally.
Over in the corner, Commander Dillon sat quietly,
microphone still in hand. He blinked several times as his mind
processed what it had just heard.
"Gotta go," he suddenly blurted, leaping down off of his
stool and racing out of Seven Backward.
Behind the bar, Karina Durham smiled. Rydell had
actually gone through with it. Despite his talk, she didn't really
believe that he would, even though she knew that more than
anything Rydell wanted to be at The Suburb. Be at The Suburb
with her, that is. For some reason, her smile broadened.
***************************************
FROM THE PADD OF ADMIRAL THOMAS WAGNER
ADMIRAL IN CHARGE OF SPECIAL PROJECTS AND "THAT SHIP"
TO: ADMIRALTY STAFF
FROM: ADMIRAL THOMAS WAGNER
STARDATE: 55003.7
RE: JOYOUS EVENT
As some of you may have already heard, Captain Alexander Rydell of
the USS Secondprize has rather abruptly decided to leave Starfleet.
Congratulations to Admiral Harlan Baxter for winning the betting
pool. He was the only one to correctly guess that Rydell would
retire rather than be killed or vanish mysteriously, so it doesn't
really matter that he was thirty years off on the correct date.
The "Good Riddance" party has been scheduled for tomorrow at
1900 hours in the Admiralty Lounge...assuming Rydell doesn't do
anything annoying like change his mind.
Regards,
Admiral Thomas Wagner
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Karina Durham asked,
giving soon-to-be-former-Captain Alexander Rydell's hand a squeeze
as they approached Transporter Room One.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Rydell replied with a
less-than-convincing smile.
"Oh, I don't know. You're leaving your ship and crew of
seven years and completely changing your life. It's the kind of thing
that might give some people second thoughts."
"Are you saying I'm some people, then?"
"Just asking."
Rydell looked around at the corridors of his ship. And in
some ways, no matter what, it would always be his ship. But in the
end, as he'd once told the crew, the ship was really just a machine;
it was the people inside it that mattered. "I'm going to miss them,"
Rydell said. "But it's time."
The couple reached the doors to Transporter Room One,
which slid open revealing Commander Travis Dillon, Commander
Jaroch, Commander Scott Baird, Lieutenant Commander Emily
Sullivan, Lieutenant Andrea Carr, Counselor Claire Webber,
Doctor Beth Aldridge, and, standing behind the transporter
console, Lieutenant Commander Monica Vaughn.
Dillon, who was closest to the door, immediately burst into
song:
"For he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good FELLOW!!!
Which nobody can deny!"
"Thanks, Dillon," Rydell laughed. "But I have no say on
whether or not you'll get command when I leave."
Dillon's broad smile vanished. "Oh. Well...I still meant it."
"Sure you did," Rydell said, clapping his First Officer on
the shoulder. "And believe it or not, I might actually miss you."
"That's kind of you to say, sir. Goodbye...and good luck."
"Good luck to you as well. But I want you to remember
something, Dillon. There's more to all this than sitting in the
center seat. If you think command is going to make your life
complete, you're going to be really disappointed when you get
there."
"So I will get there?" Dillon probed.
"You're hopeless. You know that?" Rydell said laughing.
"I still can't believe that you're leaving," Counselor Webber
exclaimed, rushing over and grabbing Rydell in a
stronger-than-usual bear-hug.
"Dammit, Webber! Put the man down," Dr. Aldridge said. "I
don't want to have to knit any bones before he leaves."
Webber released Rydell, who quickly sucked in a big breath
of air to make up for the oxygen the Counselor had rammed out of
his lungs.
"You going to miss that, too?" Commander Baird asked.
"Of course he is," Webber said. "Everybody needs a good
squnch now and then."
"I'll try and keep him stocked," Karina said as Rydell
headed over to Jaroch.
"Tell everybody in there goodbye for me," Rydell said,
poking Jaroch lightly on the side of the head.
"They do not place nearly as much significance upon this
event as I do," Jaroch replied, shaking Rydell's hand. "Your presence
on the Secondprize will be sorely missed...and I am not just saying
that because Commander Dillon may end up in command."
Rydell smiled. "That means a lot, Jaroch. You're going to
make a fine captain one day."
"If that is indeed the case, it will be due to what I have
learned serving under you."
"So where's everybody else?" Rydell asked jovially,
quickly changing the subject before this turned into an all-out
mush-fest.
"Frankly, sir, they all are experiencing the after-effects of
alcohol following last night's Farewell Luau," Commander Jaroch
replied.
"Which means I get to spend the rest of the day repairing
liver damage," Dr. Aldridge groused. "Now get over here and hug me
goodbye before I kill you for serving real liquor."
"Yes, ma'am," Rydell said, wrapping his arms around
Aldridge.
"Remember we're up here if you get bored running a hotel
for spoiled tourists," Aldridge said.
"How could I forget?"
With the hugs started, the goodbyes began in earnest.
"I actually wrote a poem for the occasion," Lieutenant
Carr said, hugging Rydell. "But they voted against me
reading it."
Rydell chuckled. "I'm sure it was great," he said, letting
go of Carr.
"You never got to know great," Lieutenant Commander
Vaughn said sultrily as she wrapped her hands around Rydell and
grabbed his rear end.
"Hey now!" Karina called out playfully. "That's enough of
that. And don't think I didn't see what you were...or should I say
what you were not wearing underneath that grass skirt last night."
"He's all yours," Vaughn said, holding up her hands
innocently.
"He is? Woah. Maybe I spoke too quickly. You sure you
don't want him back?"
"Oh no. You're stuck with him," Vaughn said, stepping
over to give Karina a goodbye hug.
"Goodbye, sir," Lieutenant Commander Sullivan said,
holding Rydell tightly. "And thank you."
"I didn't do anything," Rydell replied.
"Oh yeah," Commander Baird said. "Who do you think
gave her the idea to try for a First Officer spot?"
"I have no doubt you'll get one," Rydell said. He leaned in
closer to Sullivan. "But don't get one here. And you'd damn well
better comm me when you make captain."
"I will, sir," Sullivan said, releasing her grip on Rydell.
"I guess that just leaves you, Scott," Rydell said, shaking
Baird's hand.
"Yeah yeah. Thanks for totally f***ing up my life," Baird
grumbled.
"He doesn't want you to leave," Sullivan said, leaning her
head on her husband's shoulder. "Isn't that sweet?"
"F*** you."
"And that's something else I'll miss," Rydell said.
"Commander, it has truly been an honor and a pleasure. You're a
hell of an engineer and an even better friend." Baird shifted
uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to such an honest,
completely cynicism-free sentiment. Fortunately, Rydell let him
off of the hook.
"On that note, I think it's high time we let you all get on
with your Starfleet lives," Rydell said, stepping up onto the
transporter pad with Karina Durham.
"Coordinates set," Lieutenant Commander Vaughn said,
taking up her position behind the transporter console. "And your
belongings are already there to meet you."
"Then I guess we're all set," Rydell said. "You folks keep
it together up here."
The Secondprize officers looked around at each other and
smiled. "Not a problem," they replied in unison.
"Glad to hear it," Rydell said. He stopped, taking one last
look around at his gathered officers. If there was ever a point that
he needed a holocam, this was it. But somehow he knew, even as
his life became filled with the day-to-day operations of The Suburb
Resort and Spa, that he'd never forget this moment, which meant it
was time to leave before anyone said anything to screw it up...and
high time to go start his new life.
Alexander Rydell then uttered his final command as the
Captain of the USS Secondprize.
"Energize."
***************************************
FROM THE DESK OF LT. GRACE HOUBILOILUUD
STARFLEET PERSONNEL OFFICE: "STAFFING THE FINAL FRONTIER"
TO: ADMIRAL HE'NERS, DENERIA DRY DOCK
FROM: LT. GRACE HOUBILOILUUD
STARDATE: 55043.7
RE: YOUR STAFFING REQUEST
We regret to inform you that we will no longer be able to fulfill
your request to transfer Cmdr. T'Bon, the Chief Engineer of the
USS Oppenheimer, to Deneria Dry Dock due to the fact that she is
currently dead.
Please let us know if we may assist you in any of your future
staffing needs.
Sincerely,
Lt. Gracie Houbiloiluud
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
Lieutenant Commander Emily Sullivan stood in front of
her bedroom mirror straightening her commbadge on her uniform
when she heard the doors to the quarters she shared with her
husband, Commander Scott Baird, slide open and shut. She was
about to call out a hello to Baird when she heard the humming.
Her first instinct was to call Security because there was
obviously an intruder in her quarters. Then, listening more closely,
she realized that the humming indeed sounded like Scott Baird.
"Honey?" she called.
"It's me," Baird replied. Sullivan finished adjusting her
uniform and headed out into the living area where Baird had planted
himself on the sofa, a padd in his hand and a broad grin on his face.
"Oookay. Is this sudden bout of happiness due to alien
possession, a brain-hijacking parasite, or a mood-altering spore, just
so I know what I'm dealing with."
Baird handed the padd to her. "It's from Deneria." Several
months earlier, Baird had interviewed for the position of
Supervising Refit and Repair Officer of the Deneria Dry Dock
facility, a position he was subsequently passed over for in favor of
the Chief Engineer of the USS Oppenheimer.
Sullivan read down the padd. "You...you got the post?" she
said in disbelief. "But they already picked..."
"Her ship blew up. Go figure. The job's mine now."
Sullivan kept reading, then started to chuckle. "Hon, did
you read this?"
"What kind of dumb ass question is that? Of course I read
it."
"All of it?"
"Yeah."
"Even the part about you having to have a profanity filter
installed?"
"What?" Baird shouted, snatching the padd away from her.
He quickly found the section Sullivan was talking about. "Those
f***ing bastard ass F***S!"
***************************************
FROM THE OFFICES OF THE SCCS
TO: CAPTAIN JAROCH, USS SECONDPRIZE
FROM: STARFLEET COMMAND CAPTAINS SOCIETY
STARDATE: 55097.4
RE: YOU'RE ALREADY A MEMBER!!!
Congratulations on your recent promotion!
As a newly-minted Captain, you must be feeling a bit overwhelmed
by the whole new universe of possibilities and, yes, responsibilities
that has opened up before you.
That's why you need to know that the SCCS is here for you.
The SCCS is your complete source for tips, tactics, and, if you need
it, an understanding colleague. And the best part is...you're already
a member by virtue of your rank!
So once again, Congratulations! We look forward to serving you
throughout your career.
Sincerely,
Your Friends and Colleagues at SCCS
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
As he sat at the desk in the ready room, Captain Jaroch couldn't
help but feel that the room was decidedly under-decorated. Of
course, the fact that he hadn't brought a single personal item into
the ready room may have had something to do with it.
The door chime pulled him away from considering the
problem any further. "Come in," he said as he typed a quick
reminder into his desk computer to consider some sort of
decorative style for what was now his ready room
Counselor Webber stepped inside, but stopped after only a
few feet.
"Is there a problem?" Jaroch asked as Webber looked around.
"It's just...I haven't been in here since he left. It's a bit
strange."
"For me as well," Jaroch said, gesturing for Webber to sit down
across from him. "Is there something in particular that you wished
to discuss?" Honestly, he already knew the answer. It
wasn't exactly a secret.
"You're going to have to talk to him," Webber said.
"If I am not mistaken, you are the counselor, Counselor."
"He's not responding to my comms...or anyone else's. He
hasn't even stepped outside of his quarters for a week."
Jaroch leaned back in his chair. "And what leads you to believe
that he will speak to me?"
"Have you talked to him since you got promoted?" Webber
asked.
Jaroch didn't respond.
"That's what I thought," Webber continued. "I know you
don't want to do this, but you're the one with the best shot of
getting a reaction out of him."
"Has it occurred to you that this reaction may very well be
violent?" Jaroch asked.
Webber rose from her seat, stepped behind Jaroch, and begin
rubbing his shoulders. "It's nothing to worry about. I'll be there
with you."
Jaroch's head involuntarily lolled back as Webber worked her
magic on the muscles of his neck. "I will have you know that I find
this method of coercion to be most unfair," he mumbled.
"I can't help it if my prior relationship with the captain gives
me certain insights into his likes and dislikes."
"Of course," Jaroch said with a smirk.
"Does this mean you'll go see Commander Dillon?"
"Yes...but do not think that you will be able to come in here
whenever you like and bend me to your will. Our past romantic
entanglement does not give you special access to me."
"Then I guess I'll have to start sleeping with you again,"
Webber joked as Jaroch stood up. She immediately saw his shoulders
tense. "I was kidding, Captain. Just relax."
"I will relax after we see Commander Dillon," Jaroch replied.
"At which point I believe you will owe me another neck rub."
"If you can get through to Dillon, I'll make it a full back
massage."
Jaroch was at the door in a flash, drawing a satisfied grin from
Webber. There was just something nice about having somebody in
command who actually needed the services of a counselor every
once in a while. She missed Alexander Rydell terribly, but as far as
her professional services went, he was just too centered to really
require them.
"I must admit to having second thoughts concerning my
decision not to bring security with us," Jaroch remarked as he and
Counselor Webber stood outside of the door to Commander Dillon's
quarters. "Or at the very least a phaser."
"You can take him," Webber said reassuringly.
"I have no doubt of that; however, I would prefer not to
incur any injuries in the process." He adjusted his uniform, then
straightened up to his full height. "Very well. Let us get this over
with." He touched the door chime.
As expected, there was no response.
"Jaroch to Commander Dillon."
No response.
"This would suggest that he has no desire to speak to me
either."
"Somebody is going to have to go in there at some point,"
Webber said. "And the sooner we do it, the better it will be for
everyone."
Jaroch sighed. "Computer, open Commander Dillon's
quarters. Authorization Jaroch 93684825HG673GTTIO25763
885892074FDWOENGHTSL3658G2327DJ38AN30STG30SH297T52BD90."
Webber stared at Jaroch wide-eyed. "Wow. That's certainly
a...long authorization code."
"I did not want to select one that could be easily memorized
by others."
"I don't think you'll have a problem there," Webber replied as
the doors to Dillon's quarters slid open.
Jaroch and Webber stepped cautiously inside as the sounds of
various blips and chirps and hums surrounded them.
"Is it just me or does it sound like the bridge in here?" Webber
asked.
Jaroch nodded distractedly. His gaze was currently locked on
Dillon's living area, which had been rearranged more than a little,
with the chairs, sofa, and coffee table now particularly placed
around Dillon, who sat in a perfect replica of the bridge command
chair facing his wall monitor, which was currently showing the
very-popular "warpin' through space" screensaver.
"Increase speed to warp six, Mister Sofa!" Dillon ordered,
leaning forward in his chair intently. "Bridge to engineering. Keep
an eye on those plasma injectors, Mister Toilet!"
For one of the few times in his life, Jaroch found himself
completely at a loss for words as he and Webber watched Dillon.
"Were you...expecting this?" Jaroch asked finally.
Webber shook her head. "I knew he would take you being
promoted over him badly, but maybe that combined with Hawkins
leaving..."
Dillon's head suddenly whipped toward them, his face
blazing with fury. "Intruder alert! Phasers on KILL, Mister Coffee
Table!"
"He may still be a little touchy about Hawkins," Webber
observed.
"KILL KILL KILL!"
"Touchy?" Jaroch said. "The man is completely out of his
mind."
"Dammit, Coffee Table! You couldn't hit a rampaging
mugatu at three feet," Dillon snapped, yanking his own hand
phaser out of his uniform.
"I believe that is our cue to depart...quickly," Jaroch said. He
dove toward the doors just as Dillon fired, the beam narrowly
missing Webber.
"TRAVIS! That was not nice!" Webber scolded.
"You can discuss this with him later, Counselor," Jaroch said,
yanking Webber out into the corridor. The doors closed, sealing
them off from Dillon. "Computer, flood Commander Dillon's
quarters with anesthezine."
Webber shook her head sadly. "I'll see about drawing up a
counseling schedule for him."
"No offense to your abilities, Counselor, but Commander
Dillon is going to need far more than the occasional hug from
you."
"You mean...Tantalus V?" Webber asked.
"Frankly, I would rather not send him there," Jaroch replied. "I
have...issues with their security. However, I do not see an
alternative." Jaroch turned to head off down the corridor.
"Where are you going?" Webber asked.
"To contact Admiral Wagner. He needs to be informed of the
situation immediately."
"Didn't you want that back massage?"
"And he will be informed of the situation immediately after
my back massage," Jaroch said, spinning on his heel back toward Webber.
***************************************
FORM 582-G - LOSS OF BRIDGE OFFICER
STARSHIP: USS Orleans NCC-29718
NAME OF LOST OFFICER: Cmdr. Adrian Taber
POST: First Officer
(NOTE: For Non-Bridge Officers, File Form 582-K)
COMMANDING OFFICER: Capt. Jack Woodall
STARDATE OF LOSS: 55101.7
CAUSE OF LOSS: _X_ Death __ Alien Abduction
__ Temporal Anomaly __ Unknown/Other
CIRCUMSTANCES SURROUNDING LOSS OF OFFICER:
During a heated weapons exchange between the Orleans
and an Orion Syndicate BorderRunner, Cmdr. Taber slipped in the
shower and broke his neck, killing him instantly. Our CMO has
ruled it Death By Misadventure, and I have immediately instituted
regulations forbidding water showers during combat.
And, yes, I am WELL aware this is the third first officer I've
lost in a bathroom. Thanks for reminding me.
PREFERRED REPLACEMENT OFFICER: Lieutenant Commander Emily Sullivan
CURRENTLY ASSIGNED TO: USS Secondprize
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
After entering their quarters and seeing his wife sitting
quietly on the sofa, her eyes stuck open in what could only be
described as stunned shock, Commander Scott Baird quickly came
to the conclusion that the reality of the situation had finally gotten
to Lieutenant Commander Emily Sullivan.
To be honest, he wasn't surprised. There were only three
days left until Baird was due to depart for Deneria Dry Dock to
take over as the dock's Supervising Refit and Repair Officer, but up
until now, Sullivan had been taking her husband's impending move
rather well. Yes, Baird would be moving, but it also meant that
they'd have a stable home somewhere instead of on a constantly
moving starship.
"You okay?" Baird asked, plopping himself down on the
sofa beside Sullivan.
She nodded blankly.
"Good. I don't think I'm up for a crying fit today."
A slow smile spread across Sullivan's face. "You aren't
going to believe this," she said.
"If this is your way of demanding a divorce, it's not funny,"
Baird joked.
Sullivan reached forward, picked a padd up off of the coffee
table, and set it in Baird's lap. He scanned through the document
quickly until he hit the important part.
"First Officer! F***, YEA!" He suddenly grabbed his
wife, yanking her up off of the sofa and swinging her around in his
arms several times before finally setting her back down on her feet.
"Did you happened to notice whose ship it is?" Sullivan
asked.
Baird looked back down at the transfer order. "Jack
Woodall?" Baird broke down laughing.
"Sure. Laugh, asshole, but you realize what this means?"
"Yeah. He really liked serving with your hologram while
we had him drugged and locked in the holodeck a few months ago,"
Baird said.
"Exactly. He doesn't even really know me," Sullivan
replied.
"Then it'll be the perfect time to introduce yourself."
Sullivan sat back down on the sofa, resting her chin in her
hands. "I don't know..."
"Do you think you're ready for the job?"
"That's not the issue," Sullivan said.
"Wrong. That's the only issue. Now are you ready?" Baird
asked forcefully.
"Hell yes!" Sullivan said standing up from the sofa.
"You're damn right you are," Baird said, wrapping his arms
around his wife and kissing her. "Come on," he said, pulling her
toward the door once their lips parted.
"Where are we going?"
"Dinner. It's time to celebrate and rub some people's noses
in your promotion."
"You always did know how to show a girl a good time,"
Sullivan laughed as she followed her husband out into the corridor.
***************************************
From the Office of the Admiral Sara Mandaly (Recently Deceased)
TO: Admiral Thomas Wagner
FROM: Commander Marianne Keaton
STARDATE: 55104.6
RE: Real Estate
As per our discussion last week, I checked the specifics of Admiral
Mandaly's will concerning the disposition of the asteroid she'd
modified for her retirement home. No specific beneficiary was
designated for the asteroid or the holodeck and living quarters
contained inside. In fact, shortly after her death, I found a message
on her computer addressed to me insisting that I keep the existence
of the asteroid a secret. I suppose I really shouldn't have told you
about it in the first place.
In any case, I have no use for a holodeck embedded in an asteroid,
so you are more than welcome to take it. I do not know what you
want to use it for, and, frankly, I do not want to know. The time I
spent working in your office taught me that sometimes it's best not
to ask questions, particularly if the USS Secondprize is involved,
which I have this sneaking suspicion it is.
Find attached the coordinates of the asteroid and the codes to
activate the internal systems. I will be deleting all records of this
correspondence. As far as I'm concerning, this never happened.
Best of luck, sir,
Commander Marianne Keaton
***************************************
RUNABOUT PATAPSCO
The crew of the USS Secondprize was undoubtedly finding
the behavior of their captain to be highly irregular at the moment,
but that was not of any great concern to Captain Jaroch as he steered
the Runabout Patapsco into the Serellian Asteroid Field toward his
destination.
Jaroch had left the Secondprize three days earlier, leaving
specific instructions with Lieutenant Carr not to move the ship
from its current position in orbit around Rigel XI until he
returned. Normally, Jaroch would have been comfortable with leaving
the Secondprize under the command of his First Officer until he
returned; however, that was impossible for two minor reasons:
1) His First Officer, Commander Dillon, was on the
runabout with him.
2) Dillon was completely out of his mind.
All Jaroch had told the Secondprize crew upon his departure
was that Dillon was being transferred to a place that would be
less damaging to his psyche. Some immediately assumed Jaroch
meant Tantalus V. Others believed Dillon was going to Starfleet
Headquarters. Nobody there would notice one more lunatic running
around.
In truth, Admiral Wagner, who had seen Jaroch's point about
Tantalus V's inability to keep its patients from escaping and
terrorizing the quadrant, had arranged for a counselor from another
facility to move to this asteroid to oversee Dillon's treatment for as
long as it took.
As the runabout approached the small asteroid specified in
Admiral Wagner's communique, Jaroch tried hailing the counselor, who
was already to have arrived. No response. Jaroch initiated a scan to
make sure he was in the right place and detected one life sign and
several photonic signatures indicating a holodeck in use. This did
indeed appear to be the correct location.
Assuming that the counselor was otherwise occupied, Jaroch
headed to the back of the runabout where Dillon lay. He'd been
kept heavily sedated ever since the incident in his quarters, another
fact that the majority of the Secondprize crew had been kept
unaware of. They'd just assumed that Dillon was sulking, and,
frankly, they were quite content to let Dillon sulk in his quarters
alone.
Jaroch programmed the runabout's transporter, which then
beamed Jaroch and the unconscious Dillon to the living area inside the
asteroid, which, as Jaroch expected, was deserted. Jaroch pulled Dillon
up onto a sofa, then headed over the massive holodeck doors
dominating the far wall of the living room. It was indeed in use.
"Computer, open holodeck doors," Jaroch ordered.
The computer complied, allowing Jaroch to walk out into a
forested area atop what appeared to be a mountain on Earth. A
cool breeze blew by Jaroch as he took in the view of the mountain
range beyond the trees. This counselor was evidently a nature
lover.
Then Jaroch heard the giggling of several female voices.
Following the sound, he came upon a rocky area which had formed
a natural pool filled with steaming water. Inside said pool were five
unclad human females who could only be described as nubile. With
them was a balding, bearded man who could only be described as
paunchy.
"Now who wants to rub Counselor Ray's feet?" the man
asked contentedly.
"Me! Me!" the woman all shouted eagerly, practically
diving for his feet.
"Calm down, girls. There's enough of Ray to go around."
"That much is more than evident," Captain Jaroch said
disapprovingly.
The counselor's head whipped around, his eyes widening in
alarm as he spotted Jaroch. "Sorry, girls," he said, scrambling out of
the pool and pulling a towel around his waist. "Fun time's over for
today."
"Awwwwwwww!" the women whined.
"Computer, end program," Jaroch ordered. The mountain and
its occupants shimmered out of existence, leaving only Jaroch and the
now-naked counselor.
"Holographic towel," the counselor said sheepishly, rushing
over to his uniform, which sat in a pile in the corner of the
holodeck. "I'm Counselor Miller," he continued, pulling his clothes
on. "I'll be seeing to the care of Commander Dillon."
"Captain Jaroch," replied flatly. "You will find Commander
Dillon unconscious on the sofa in the next room.
"All right," Miller said. "Admiral Wagner was vague about all
of this. He pretty much just asked me if I was willing to leave
Waystation for an extended assignment, then, when I agreed, he
told me the name of the patient. Is there anything else I should
know?"
"Within the last couple of months, he has lost the woman he
loves and his hope for ever commanding a starship, the combined
effect of which was enough to wrench loose the last of his tenuous
grip on reality."
"So he's retreated into his imagination," Miller said.
"Precisely."
"Then I guess he's in the right place," Miller said, looking
around at the holodeck.
"That was my intention," Jaroch said. "And now I will leave
him in your care." Jaroch moved to tap his commbadge.
"Wait!" Miller said. "Who should I send progress reports
to?"
"File them in the asteroid's databanks, if you wish," Jaroch
replied. "I am sure that someone will check on
Dillon...eventually." He tapped the commbadge. "Jaroch to Patapsco.
Energize."
A moment later, Jaroch was gone, leaving Counselor Miller
alone to devise his course of treatment. After several seconds of
thought, Miller shrugged and headed out into the living area,
staying just long enough to get Dillon and drag him back into the
holodeck.
"Computer, create the bridge of a Federation starship. I
don't really care which one. Generic crew, but they should consider
Commander Dillon here to be the captain. Create a set of quarters
for me and have two female yeomen waiting for me there. Pull
their templates out of my database. You know what I like," Miller
said with a grin.
As the bridge and its crew shimmered into existence, Miller
headed into the turbolift to debrief his yeomen. A short time later,
Dillon began to stir as the effects of the sedatives wore off.
Reaching out, his arm hit the base of a chair. Dillon opened bleary
eyes, which gradually focused to reveal that he was in front of a
command chair. He pulled himself up into the chair groggily,
searching his memory for some idea as to where he was or how he'd
gotten here.
"Orders, Captain?" the helm officer asked, turning around in
his chair.
Captain? Oh! Of course! This was HIS ship. And HIS
crew. Everything was exactly like it was supposed to be.
"Take us to our next mission, Lieutenant," Dillon said,
quickly adjusting to his new surroundings.
"Aye, sir."
"And if we happen to run across Captain Alexander Rydell or
the USS Secondprize on our way there, destroy them on sight.
Okay?"
"Of course, Captain.
Dillon smiled and leaned back in his command chair,
perfectly content in his belief that all was right in HIS
universe.
***************************************
Roger and Caroline Durham
Request the Honor of Your Presence
At the Marriage of their Daughter,
Karina Ashley Durham
to
Captain Alexander Beaumont Rydell (Retired)
on Stardate 55274.6
at The Suburb Resort and Spa, Chess Lawn
Third Moon of Hujinor Two
Reception to Follow
***************************************
THE SUBURB
"...and so by the power invested in me by the United
Federation of Planets, I now pronounce you husband and wife.
You may kiss." Captain Lisa Beck took a slight step back as she
finished speaking, giving the newlyweds plenty of room for that all-
important first kiss as a married couple.
Alexander Rydell and Karina Durham wasted no time, moving
together in one of those passionate kisses that reminded Beck just
how long it had been since she'd had a real date, a situation she had
every intention of resolving as soon as she returned to Waystation.
As the witnesses to the wedding ceremony stood up and
applauded, the new couple stepped off of the platform floating in a
small pool that been set up in The Suburb's Chess Lawn (so named
because of the life-sized chess board painted on the grass that
allowed visitors to The Suburb to participate in a chess game either
as players or pieces) and proceeded down the aisle, both of their
faces grinning broadly.
Within twenty minutes of the end of the ceremony, The
Suburb staff had completely transformed the Chess Lawn from
outdoor wedding chapel into an outdoor reception pavilion
complete with bandstand and buffet.
"So I guess some congratulations are in order, Captain,"
Captain Beck said as she approached Captain Jaroch and shook his
hand.
"Thank you, Captain," Jaroch said with a courteous nod of his
head.
"Somehow it feels like I just congratulated you on a
promotion. You certainly didn't waste much time at the
Commander rank."
"Neither did you, as I recall."
"You've got me there," Beck said, looking around at the
guests.
"The ceremony was quite pleasant," Jaroch said, searching for
another conversational topic. As usual in his interactions with
Beck, he found himself without anything to discuss within a very
short period of time. "However, I am puzzled by the pool."
"It was the only way I could marry them here," Beck
replied. "Captains only marry people on the vessel, or station in my
case, that they're in command of, so Alexander decided that the
platform was a boat and that I was the captain of it. Problem
solved. But somebody really needs to take that out of the Starfleet
wedding regulations."
"Indeed," Jaroch said absently as his eyes locked on Patricia
Hawkins, dressed in civilian clothing, who was currently talking to
Commander Scott Baird and Commander Emily Sullivan, both of
whom had traveled in from their new posts. "Excuse me," he said,
walking off toward Hawkins.
"Good talking to you," Beck said with a smirk. She
spotted Lieutenant Commander Craig Porter talking to Lieutenant
Andrea Carr and Counselor Claire Webber. Then, finally, she
found Alexander Rydell and Karina Durham surrounded by well-
wishers and headed off in their direction to get in line for her turn
with the newlyweds.
Jaroch, meanwhile, stopped himself a few feet away from
Hawkins, Baird, and Sullivan. Just what did he plan to say? Small
talk had never exactly been a strong suit. The problem solved itself
as Hawkins spotted him and waved him over.
"I hope I am not interrupting," Jaroch said as he joined the
group.
"You outrank us, so you can pretty much interrupt
whenever you want," Sullivan joked. "It's good to see you, sir."
"And you. I trust that the you are adjusting adequately to
the Orleans."
"Captain Woodall and I had a few bumps at first, but we're
slowly melding into a functional unit."
"The f*** better meld, or I'm coming after his ass," Baird
muttered.
"Don't mind him," Sullivan said, patting her husband on the
arm. "Deneria promised to do something to take care of his
language."
"F*** you."
Baird and Sullivan suddenly realized that Jaroch was paying
absolutely no attention to them. Instead, he was busy gazing at
Hawkins.
"Hello," Hawkins said somewhat nervously.
"And to you," Jaroch replied with a nod.
"Come on," Sullivan said to Baird. "I'm hungry."
"Yeah. Good idea," Baird said as they headed toward the
buffet.
"How is Mookow?" Jaroch asked once he and Hawkins were
alone.
"Fine. We had a job come up for this weekend, so he's
taking care of that while I'm here."
"I see. And are you enjoying your new line of work?"
"Oh yeah. I've shot nineteen Cardassians and six Klingons
in the last month alone."
"How satisfying for you."
"It is," Hawkins said. "But what about you? Do you like
having the center seat?"
Jaroch nodded. "To be honest, I had never thought much about
commanding a starship on a permanent basis, but now that I have
the position, I must admit to enjoying it.. Of course, my prior
knowledge of the crew is helpful in that regard."
Hawkins looked around at the other guests. "Travis didn't
come?"
"He was not feeling up to it," Jaroch replied flatly. It was not
exactly a lie, and Jaroch had no desire to possibly cause Hawkins to
feel guilty over Commander Dillon's mental breakdown.
"I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of relieved. I never told
him I was leaving the Secondprize, and I seriously doubt he took it
well."
Jaroch said nothing.
"Uh huh. I knew it. Look, I don't want to talk about Travis
anymore. I made my decision. I'm happy with Mookow. That's
the end of it."
"Very well," Jaroch said. "May I suggest something to take our
minds off of the topic?"
"Absolutely," Hawkins said.
Jaroch extended his hand to her. "Would you care to dance?"
"I didn't know you danced."
"I do not; however, I am more than willing to make an
exception for you."
Hawkins laughed. "How can I refuse that?" she said, taking
his hand and walking with him toward the other dancing couples in
front of the bandstand.
A short distance away, Captain Beck finally managed to get
to Rydell and Karina Durham. "Now serving number 3012,"
Rydell joked as Beck approached.
"Sorry. I lost my number," Beck replied.
"Woah! Back to the end of the line!" Karina said with a
laugh.
"Congratulations," Beck said, hugging them both in turn.
"Thank you," Rydell said. "And thank you agreeing to
perform the ceremony."
"Seeing as how you first consummated your relationship in
one of my turbolifts, it seemed only appropriate."
"You know about that?" Karina said.
"We have good internal sensors and Sean Russell
running them."
"That explains that then," Rydell said. "The man never
did have an ounce of tact when it came to other people's sex lives."
"Or his own," Beck replied, gesturing toward the edge of
the Chess Lawn where Russell and Lieutenant Commander
Monica Vaughn were charging toward the bushes, practically ripping
each other's clothes off as they went. "Okay. That's enough of
that," she said, turning away from the spectacle. "So when do I get
to meet your parents?"
Rydell and Karina Durham exchanged a glance. "Mine are
over there with Dr. Aldridge," Karina said.
"That's one set," Beck said, focusing on Rydell.
"Mine...couldn't make it," he said.
"Oh," Beck said uncomfortably. "Sorry about that. But
this is a nice place you've got here," she continued, changing the
subject.
"We like it," Rydell said, happy that Beck had dropped
the parent issue. It was true that his parents couldn't make it.
They were currently busy running their hotel on Bransonis, but
Rydell also didn't think that this was the time for his crew to find
out that he was the son of galactic singing stars Fabe and Mabe.
"You need to come for a stay sometime, " he finished.
"I'd like that...as long as you're actually going to be here,"
Beck said with a smile.
"You don't think I can stay away from Starfleet, huh?"
"The thought crossed my mind."
"Starfleet is a way of life, but it's not mine. I've got
everything I need right here," Rydell said, pulling Karina closer to
him.
Seeing Rydell and Karina together, Captain Beck realized
that Rydell was right. He wouldn't be back. Rydell had found
the life he wanted, and Beck couldn't be more happy for him.
***************************************
From the Expansive Office Suite of Fleet Admiral Nosira Ra'al
TO: ADMIRAL THOMAS WAGNER
FROM: COMMODORE ED GOULD, EXECUTIVE ATTACHE
STARDATE: 55274.7
RE: USS SECONDPRIZE COMMAND STRUCTURE
Our office has received the revised USS Secondprize command
structure submitted by your office on Stardate 55270. That list, as
submitted, follows:
Commanding Officer - Captain Jaroch
First Officer - Commander Vacant
Helm Officer - Lieutenant Andrea Carr
Operations Officer - Ensign Bill Woodville
Tactical Officer - Lieutenant Robert Prescott
Chief Engineer - Lieutenant Commander Monica Vaughn
Chief Medical Officer - Doctor Beth Aldridge
While Starfleet Command generally prefers that a science officer be
assigned, we are willing to wave that requirement considering the
extensive science background of the Secondprize's Captain. We
cannot, however, overlook the fact that the Secondprize currently
does not have a First Officer. And, no, I do not believe that
"Commander Vacant" is a real person.
Now, this office was quite willing to place the Secondprize's prior
First Officer, Commander Travis Dillon, on "Extended Special
Assignment" without asking questions about what this assignment
was or where it would be occurring. That is as far as we can bend,
though. The USS Secondprize will be assigned a new First Officer.
In fact, Fleet Admiral Ra'al feels that, with Alexander Rydell out of
the way, this is a perfect opportunity to try to bring the Secondprize
back into the fold. Therefore, she will select Commander Dillon's
replacement personally from elsewhere in the Fleet.
Regards,
Commodore Ed Gould
***************************************
USS SECONDPRIZE
The first thing Captain Jaroch noticed as he and Lieutenant
Carr stepped out onto the Secondprize bridge after beaming
up from The Suburb was Ensign Bill Woodville scurrying back to his
post at the Operations console as Lieutenant Robert Prescott, the
Secondprize's Security Chief/Tactical Officer quickly typed a
command, clearing whatever it was that he and Woodville had been
looking at before Jaroch's arrival.
"Nice wedding?" Prescott asked innocently.
"It was pleasant," Jaroch replied, taking his seat in the
command chair as Carr did the same at the helm.
"At least some people on board were able to enjoy it,"
Ensign Woodville said pointedly.
"Captain Rydell would have liked to invite everyone;
however, he and Karina Durham decided on a small ceremony. It
certainly was not meant as a slight against anyone not specifically
invited."
"Easy for him to say," Prescott said. "He got to dance with
Patricia Hawkins."
"How did you know that?" Jaroch asked, turning to face his
tactical officer.
"Well...um...news travels fast on this ship," Prescott replied.
"But not backwards in time. You could not be aware of the
event until after we returned from the wedding, which did not
happen until just now. And I seriously doubt Doctor Aldridge,
Lieutenant Commander Vaughn, Counselor Webber or Lieutenant
Carr ran to the nearest intercom to inform you of my dance
card as soon as they beamed aboard."
"We used the sensors," Woodville said, drawing an angry glare
from Prescott. "What? He was going to find out!"
"You didn't have to spoil the mystery for him then," Prescott
replied as a bemused Jaroch watched the exchange.
"My only response is that I hope you allowed the rest of the
crew to watch the ceremony as well."
"We did," Woodville said.
"Good. Now if there is nothing else..." Jaroch said.
Prescott shifted his feet hesitantly. "Well..."
"Yes?" Jaroch asked.
"We received a communique from Admiral Wagner while you
were away," Woodville said, drawing another glare from Prescott.
"What? You were about to tell him anyway!"
"That's not the point! I'm not telling you anything ever
again."
"Gentlemen, could I hear about the Admiral's message?"
"You're going to love this." Prescott sent the message to the
viewscreen. "Oh, by the way, it was addressed to the Secondprize
in general, which is why we looked at it," Prescott said.
"That being the case, I sincerely doubt you have violated
Federation security," Jaroch replied, reading through Admiral Wagner's
communique quickly. A new First Officer...from outside of the
Secondprize. "I suppose this was to be expected," Jaroch said with a
sigh. "Although, I cannot say that I am happy about it."
"Me either," Carr grumbled.
"What do you care?" Prescott asked.
"We don't even know this Commander Leirnak person,"
Carr said, looking at the name in the communique.
"I would have preferred that Starfleet allowed me the option
to promote from within," Jaroch said. "Most captains are allowed to
choose their own First Officer, and the Secondprize requires a
certain personality."
"I'd take the job," Carr said.
"Right," Prescott scoffed.
"Actually, I firmly believe that in a few years you will be an
excellent candidate. You certainly have shown solid ability up until
now," Jaroch said.
"Thank you, sir," Carr said with a smile, which
quickly turned into a positively evil stare as she focused on Prescott.
"Anyway," Prescott said, rapidly breaking eye contact with
Carr. "We are to proceed to Starbase 26 to pick him up.
And it is a him. I checked his service record. He's a Tarkalian."
"Lay in a course and engage at warp five," Jaroch said to
Carr.
"He looks like a bit of an order nut," Woodville said, turning to
look at Jaroch.
"Oh yeah," Prescott agreed. "Evidently he had the Chief
Engineer of his last ship alphabetize the spare parts."
"You're kidding!" Carr said with a laugh.
"Nope. Dead serious. We've already got a pool going to
see how long he'll last."
"Count me in," Carr said.
"I've already got one month," Woodville said.
"And I still think you're nuts," Prescott said. "There's no
way..."
"Ahem," Captain Jaroch said, clearing his throat loudly. The
other bridge officers quickly fell silent.
"Sorry, sir," Prescott said sheepishly.
"Thank you," Jaroch said. "Now please put me down for
fifteen days, three hours, eighteen minutes."
"Why then?" Carr said. "If I can ask."
"You may," Jaroch said. "If you will check your calendars, you
will note that that particular time will be exactly five minutes after
the beginning of Lieutenant Commander Vaughn's birthday
celebration, which, if this Commander Leirnak is the type of man
you say he is and considering the show Vaughn put on last year,
should be just enough time for his head to explode."
"Should we just give him the credits now?" Woodville asked.
"The man is good," Prescott admitted.
"That," Jaroch said with a confident smile as he leaned back
into his command chair, "is why I am the captain."
And the Secondprize sailed on.
***************************************
"...AND THAT'S PRETTY MUCH HOW THINGS STAYED UNTIL
THEY HAD TO GET BACK TOGETHER AND COME SEE ME WHEN THE
TEN YEARS WERE UP. THEN, AFTER THAT, I WAS MOVED ALL
THE WAY OUT HERE," Forever said, finishing his long,
oh so very long story.
"Smashing," Captain Reginald Bain, commanding officer of the
USS Anomaly, a Starfleet vessel operating in the early, 26th century,
said unenthusiastically from the rock where it seemed like he'd
been sitting for an eternity listening to this blasted Forever
entity drone on and on. It was enough to make him regret
beaming down here in the first place. But no. He just HAD
to see how there could be a cavern with a breathable atmosphere
in the center of a pulsar.
"I believe he's done, Captain," Lieutenant Commander
Tovar, Bain's Tac-Ops Officer said from the patch of rocky floor
where he'd curled up to try and nap.
Bain immediately perked up. "Lovely story, Forever...even
if it did happen over a century ago. Right. I suppose we should be
going then."
"DON'T YOU WANT TO SEE ME DESTROY THE UNIVERSE?"
Bain thought for a moment. "Not this trip." He pinched the
commpip on his collar. "Bain to Anomaly. Beam Tovar and I back
at once."
A moment later, Forever was once again alone.
"OH WELL," Forever sighed. "MAYBE NEXT CENTURY..."
THE END
And that does it for Star Traks: The Lost Years! If you haven't
read Please Hold For Oblivion yet, now would be a fantastic time.
If you have...um...well, I really don't have anything else to say.
Bye bye now.